


Crushed

by SparklingDragonTears



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 150 prompts, Derek cares, Hurt!Stiles, Implied Longing, M/M, Misunderstandings, Peter is mostly good, Sheriff Stilinski Finds Out, Threats are made, alpha!Derek, forced breakup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 09:06:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17936882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparklingDragonTears/pseuds/SparklingDragonTears
Summary: Prompt 15: “What did I do wrong?”Sheriff finds out Peter is seeing his underage son and forces Peter to call it off. Peter comes to Derek for comfort.





	Crushed

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how I feel about this. I feel like there should be more, but I don't know that I want to write it. I guess, enjoy for now, maybe I will write a tie-in from Stiles' POV. Or expand on this. I don't know. I would like to make it chaptered or a series. Some day.
> 
> Number 15: “What did I do wrong?”
> 
> Misunderstandings from Derek. Angry!Derek. Angry!Sheriff. Hurt!Stiles. Make your own decisions about Peter. :P
> 
> Inspired by this tumblr post: http://sansprisedetete.tumblr.com/post/96173695403

The Sheriff’s voice rang through his head, furious and barely contained. He could see the pistol pointed toward his face, smell the wolfsbane bullet aimed to his skull, clear as if it were still inches away. The Sheriff had looked disgusted, horrified at the images in his own mind.

The pack members had taken to hanging out at the Stilinski and McCall houses when they weren’t at the loft. Peter had been there before, but the Sheriff had always been blissfully unaware of what happened in Stiles' bedroom when he was away. 

One moment was a quiet day like any other, the next, Peter was yanked from his reading at the Stilinski’s dining table and thrown to the floor in the face of parental rage.

_“I ought to shoot you now,”_ he’d snarled quietly, to not alert his son upstairs. _“I’d have you rotting in a jail cell if I knew it would hold you.”_

Peter had frozen, biting back his instinct to lash out. He knew the Sheriff carried bullets loaded to stop werewolves and weapon could end him where he lie. His breath came heavy and shallow.

_“This will not be a discussion.”_ The gun hadn’t wavered in it’s aim. _“He is a minor. You will leave. If I see you within arms reach, or alone with him again, I will not hesitate to put a bullet through your head. Understood?”_

Peter had nodded quickly, electing not to say a word. He had no idea how the Sheriff found out, but had enough mind not to ask.

_“Tell him it’s over, and do not contact him again. You have three minutes.”_

Peter thought bitterly that the Sheriff was actually being accommodating in allowing him a goodbye. As much as he ached to steal away the man’s son to keep him as his own, he felt a sting at the thought and knew he wouldn’t disrespect the Sheriff’s order.

So now, here he was, Stiles standing before him, tears in his eyes, fingernails biting into his palms.

“What did I do wrong?” The younger whispered, knees clearly ready to give out. His body shook, eyes darting desperately over Peter’s face.

Peter stepped forward and pulled the teen into to his chest. He shushed him lightly, running his hands through Stiles’ hair and holding him tight. Stiles squeezed his arms around Peter’s ribs, burying his face in the man’s shirt.

“Nothing, darling,” Peter murmured. “It’s entirely on me.” He could smell the fear creeping through Stiles and knew the boy’s heart was being swallowed in familiar isolation. He felt his own heart crack into pieces. He sighed shakily, looking around the teenager’s room. He could smell his daughter’s jacket draped over the back of the computer chair. He scanned over the photos of Stiles and his friends, resting on a photo of Derek rolling his eyes and smirking in Stiles’ selfie. He felt guilt rip through him as he heard the tiny sniffle.

“Please don’t go…” Stiles begged, knowing it was futile. Peter squeezed him once more, pulling away gently.

“I’m sorry,” Peter breathed, landing a kiss on the top of Stiles’ unruly hair. “Truly.” 

Stiles let his arms fall limp to the sides as he watched Peter climb out his bedroom window, tears running silently down his face. Peter swallowed, giving him a last look before dropping into the night.

He ran.

Peter ran until he couldn’t smell Stiles in the air, on the street, burned into his skin. He hadn’t realized he’d shifted, until he came to rest at the familiar preserve. He felt the wolf howling inside of him, torn apart from his partner, begging to run back to him.

He reached into his pocket, feeling the buzz of his phone. He crushed it between his fingers without even pulling it out. The plastic shards sliced into his skin and he did nothing but wipe the blood on his jeans.

Peter felt the growing black hole inside of him as he pictured the tears on the boy’s face. He snarled and let out a deep howl into the night. When the echo died down, he slowly made his way to the loft, hoping to find his pack and ease the loneliness threatening to take over.

Unfortunately, the moment he stepped through the door searching for his nephew’s company, tail between his legs so to speak, he was slammed backwards, head crashing against the metal door.

“You promised you wouldn’t hurt him!” Derek’s growl rang through him. His nephew pulled back and held him by the collar. Peter raised his hands in surrender, ready to accept whatever his nephew felt he deserved. He was sure it would be less than it should be.

“Maybe if you hadn’t run from your feelings, you could be there to comfort him.” Peter snapped back. Derek’s eyes flashed red and his fist crashed into Peter’s jaw before Peter even saw him draw back to swing.

Peter groaned and turned his head away. He swished his saliva around, tasting sharp metal. He spit blood onto Derek’s floor without apology and glared through his eyelashes at his nephew.

“You can’t expect that he’d never get his heart broken.” Peter said sharply. “He’s seventeen for Christ’s sake.” Derek shook him roughly in reply.

“Yes, he’s a fucking child, and you’re a goddamn adult!” He yelled, gesturing wildly with one hand, the other firmly fisted into Peter’s clothing. The older man tried not to flinch as Derek snarled at him. “You _know_ why I left him alone! You swore you wouldn’t touch him. You swore you’d wait, you’d let him make a choice when he’s old enough. You swore you wouldn’t let him get hurt. Give me a reason not to bury you right now.” 

“If you’re quite done, I’ve had enough threats for one day,” Peter growled back. “If you’re going to hurt me, do it and leave me alone.” He closed his eyes and waited, having no fight left in him. 

For a few seconds, nothing happened and Peter’s heart hammered in anticipation. When he felt Derek’s hand slowly releasing his grip on him, he cracked his eyes open. Derek stared at him with his eyebrows knitted in confusion. He dropped his hold and took a step back.

“Explain.” He demanded. “Who threatened you?” Peter felt the hairs on his neck standing up at the power in the Alpha’s voice. He felt his heart breaking all over again and wanted nothing more than to curl up and let the couch swallow him whole.

“Stilinski.” Peter answered, folding his arms protectively over his chest. He really didn’t want to relive this, especially not to his nephew. “There was a gun, some promises made and some bargaining over my personal well-being and his distinctly underaged son.” 

Derek was quiet a moment, and Peter felt the air change. Derek stepped forward and tipped up Peter’s chin. He wasn’t even aware he had closed his eyes and turned away again. He looked into Peter’s eyes with a mix of pity, apology, and concern.

“So,” He said softly. “You didn’t want to leave?”

“Not for a second.” Peter answered in a broken whisper. Derek was clearly listening for a lie, and determined there was none.

“I’m sorry.” Derek answered gently. His eyes flashed red and he pushed Peter over to his couch. Peter took the hint and collapsed into the leather, pulling his knees up to his chest. 

Derek pulled out his whiskey and a couple glasses, bringing them over to sit beside his uncle. He poured them each a glass and handed one to the eldest. He rested against the other wolf, feeling him relax a fraction at the touch.

“I won’t let him hurt you,” Derek offered, sipping his drink. Peter smirked mirthlessly.

“He’s not the first angry father to threaten me.” He swirled his drink slowly, staring into the glass without seeing. 

“Just the first you’ve actually listened to?” Derek asked rhetorically. They were quiet for a few moments before Derek spoke again. “So, what now?”

Peter sighed and shrugged, sinking into Derek’s side like they were young again.

“It’s not up to me anymore.” He answered regretfully. “Next year he’ll be eighteen. I shouldn’t make this decision for him. I’m lucky Stilinski didn’t have me arrested.” 

Derek hummed in response. He understood better than anyone else would or could. 

“Just… do me a favor?” Peter asked quietly, as though he were afraid to break the moment between them. Derek tilted his head for him to continue. “Don’t let him be alone. He needs someone to keep him out of his head. McCall can’t be trusted to keep track of his pack.” Peter’s voice trailed off bitterly.

Derek nodded slowly. He could feel the despair coming off his uncle in waves. The man’s heart beat steadily and he could smell his anxiety. Derek was conflicted, he wanted more than anything to support the small pack family he had, but knew just how easy it was to fall for the brilliant and spastic boy. 

“I won’t let him fall apart.” He finally promised, feeling the calm on his uncle the moment the words left his mouth. He had no idea what would happen next, but he felt the bond between them glowing hot in his chest. 

Peter nodded, choked up and unable to answer. He clapped a hand on Derek’s shoulder and stood. He looked over his nephew’s face, feeling the slight throb in his jaw finally almost healed. With one more nod, he left to hide in his room, knowing the throb in his heart, too, would eventually heal.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you again my lovelies. Check out the 150 prompts collection and send me requests if you feel so inclined.
> 
> Till next time,  
> -J X


End file.
